


No Control

by hazellepotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Alcohol, Clubbing, College AU, Environmentally Conscious, F/M, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Muggle AU, One Night Stands, Open Book, Partying, Professor - Freeform, Snow, Snowed In, Winter, good girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 09:27:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17322368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazellepotter/pseuds/hazellepotter
Summary: Hermione turned around fuming, but not because she was mad he caught her, but because she lied.She wanted it to happen again, and knowing her and her newfound impulsivity, she would make it happen again.Hermione had lost all control.





	No Control

Irresponsible was not a word in Hermione's vocabulary; it would not be a word any of her previous employers or her college professors would use to describe her. 

_Until that one night._

She had gotten a 71.3% on her first exam coming back from winter quarter. It was the lowest score she had ever gotten on an exam, and she was freaking out. So naturally, her roommate Pansy felt she needed to get out and live a little. Forgetting about the "horrible" grade she got for once. Pansy told her that was her average, and that made Hermione hyperventilate even more imagining that anyone would be _okay_ with getting a score that low. 

So as Hermione awkwardly pulled the short skirt Pansy lended her down her thighs to look more appropriate and tried to walk in Pansy's heels, Pansy rolled her eyes and tugged her along the sidewalk.

"I can't do this," Hermione hissed, "I need to be back at the dorm studying. It is almost below freezing, and I am wearing a mini-skirt! This is the definition of what I should _not_ be doing."

"You'll be fine," Pansy reassured her, "And besides, it isn't supposed to storm at all tonight. Please live a little for once. You're so wound up."

"For good reason-" Hermione mumbled under her breath, but Pansy ignored her as they reached the usher to the club. 

"IDs please," the usher demanded, or who Hermione thought was just one huge bicep. _Did he even have any other limbs?_ He was bulging.

Hermione felt nervous as she pulled out her ID. She was old enough to be in the club, but guilt was washing over her.

The usher scanned their IDs quickly and raised his brows as he watched Hermione nervously look around her. Pansy whispered under her breath to get a grip.

"You sure these are real?" The usher asked.

Hermione's eyes bulged out of her head before she attempted to speak, but Pansy interrupted her. 

"Yes," she told him, "These are real IDs. My friend here has just never been clubbing before. Sorry if she seems antsy."

Pansy winked at the usher, who then opened the door for them and moved aside to let them in.

"Get her a drink," the usher said flatly, "She needs it."

That was really the _last thing_ Hermione needed right now, but Pansy pulled her along and soon enough, they were at the bar.

The music was blaring. It was giving Hermione a headache, and she felt the need to pull her skirt down again. Pansy swatted her hand away from her legs instead.

"Stop pulling it down! You look fine."

Hermione glared at her, "This is horrible. I cannot believe you do this for _fun_."

Three men across the bar were watching them as they spoke. Hermione looked away quickly, but Pansy smiled at them and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

"I'm going to go talk to them. I'll let you do what you want," she told her, "But don't accept drinks from anyone. Just buy them yourself."

"Do you think I'm stupid?"

Pansy rolled her eyes, "Sorry for trying to be a good friend here. If you decide to pull that stick out of your ass, I'll be over there."

She pointed to the three guys that were eyeing them earlier. Hermione gave her a sarcastic wave as she strutted off towards them. 

She heard Pansy give them her fake laugh and rolled her own eyes. She couldn't believe they were falling for her crap.

Hermione looked down at the red straw in her drink and started stirring it around. It was then she thought about how she should have brought her own metal straw of her own. She was killing the environment here. _Was there anything she could do right now?_ She groaned to herself and heard a low chuckle on her left.

She turned her head, and she knew her eyes must be blazing. Tonight was _not_ the night to be mocked, but the man didn't back down. He just kept smirking at her with highly amused eyes.

"What do _you_ want?" 

The chuckling man's smirk did not falter, and instead, he moved to sit closer to her. Instinctively, she moved away from him. Surprisingly, he didn't push it.

"I can just see you're frustrated," he yelled over the music, "Shouldn't a young woman like yourself be enjoying herself on a Saturday night?"

He had a thick accent. She wasn't sure where he was from. She tried to ignore the fact that it sent chills up her spine.

Hermione knew she shouldn't be opening up to a total stranger at a club, but Pansy was tired of listening to her complain, so she decided to unload.

"Well, first off, I got a 71.3% on my first exam for winter quarter. Who gives a test on the _first day_? We weren't even guaranteed to get our textbooks yet. Plus, I haven't met my last professor yet and will on Monday, and I heard he is a total asshole. That's _just_ what I need. He probably won't even know how to grade properly and _I-_ "

She took a deep breath in the middle of her rant and noticed the man she was ranting to was _still_ smirking. This made her stop.

"What is so funny?" She pressed, "Do you like to listen to the perpetual suffering of a total stranger? That says a lot about you."

"Have another drink," he told her. He waved over the bartender who started pouring a glass for her, "It's on me."

"Sorry," Hermione scoffed, "I don't take drinks from strangers."

"Then order your own." 

The man took the drink he had ordered for Hermione and downed it in one gulp. Hermione raised her brows. It appeared he had some issues, too. From how he looked, she assumed they were deep-rooted ones. He looked rugged, like he had been through a lot of things Hermione had yet to experience. He was at least five years older than her. Hermione's eyes darted down to his hands that were tapping against his thighs. They were not calloused like she expected them to be. They looked soft, and she suddenly wondered how they would feel against her skin.

She gulped and ordered another drink. As the bartender poured her drink and was about to put another plastic straw in, she then asked, "Do you have reusable straws here by chance?" She knew it was a long shot, but it was _important._

He raised his brows like he had never heard of such a thing before and answered her slowly, "No, _why woul-_ "

But Hermione waved him away and downed her drink in one sip. She coughed but quickly tried to cover it up so she wouldn't embarrass her in front of this man. He still kept grinning.

"Do you not want to save the environment and the sea turtles?" Hermione asked him seriously, "It is a real issue. Did you know-"

But he interrupted her by leaning forward and pressing his finger against her lip. He waved the bartender over again who looked _incredibly done_ with his job for the night and ordered another drink.

"You don't need to talk about saving the world right now," the stranger told her, "You just need to unwind. I'm assuming that's why your friend brought you here tonight, right?"

He motioned his head towards Pansy. The bartender set down two shot glasses in front of them.

"Take a shot with me," he offered, "It will help you unwind."

Hermione knew she should say no, but Hermione was intrigued by his offer. _Why not live a little?_ It was _why_ Pansy wanted her to be here. She knew it was a bad idea, but she grabbed the shot glass and downed the alcohol in it. She realized quickly it was straight vodka, and she felt her face turn up instantly. But this time, she didn't cough. 

"What's your name?" Hermione decided to ask him. She might as well know who she was going to be talking to for the evening.

"My name is Antonin, and you are?"

"Hermione." 

She played with the shot glass in her fingers as he studied her face. 

"Do you need to rant more?" He asked politely. She could tell he didn't want to hear anymore, but he knew she needed to release her pent up anger. 

Hermione decided to surprise him by replying, "No, but I do need another shot."

So they had another shot. And another, and another, _and another._

* * *

Hermione woke up feeling like her stomach was on fire and a cinderblock was sitting on top of her head. She groaned and rolled over. When she opened her eyes, she realized she was in a strange room. She sat up quickly and pulled the covers up over her body. It was then she realized she was butt-naked, too.

Frantically, Hermione looked around the room. When her eyes glanced down, she jumped back a little and almost fell out of the bed. She must of startled him, because his eyes opened quickly.

It was the man from the bar. She didn't even remember his name.

 _This could not be happening._ Who was Hermione becoming? A mediocre scholar and a college student randomly hooking up with strangers? _Oh my god._ She was _that_ girl. 

Before he could speak, she shot out of his bed and anxiously attempted to find all her garments spread out through his room. _What did they even do last night?_ She grabbed her panties off a lamp-shade on the other side of his room.

Her plan was not to say a word to him as she slipped her clothes on. She wanted to act like this never happened, but when she went back to the nightstand to grab her phone, he reached his arm out and touched his hand to hers.

"Don't even bother calling for a cab," he told her, "The cab companies are all closed."

"Then you can drive me home-" Hermione started, not even thinking about why cap companies were closed, but he just shook his head.

"I don't have a car."

"You don't have a _car_?"

"I ride a bike to work."

"Why?"

"For the same reason you use re-useable straws."

Hermione sighed and set her phone down loudly and decided to ask, "Now why are the cab companies closed?"

"There was a huge snow storm," he explained, "The roads are packed with snow. No one can get out of their houses. It is going to be at least two days before anyone can go anywhere."

Hermione froze in place.

"What!?" She shrieked, "I have class on Monday!"

"They will be canceled," he told her, "Trust me."

"Trust you? Trust YOU!? I don't even _know_ you!"

She was pacing around the room and ran her hands through her curls. They were sticking up all over the place. She watched from the corner of her eye as he laid back in bed against the headrest and put his arms behind his head.

"How are you so calm about this?" She asked him, "Don't you want a complete stranger out of your house?"

"I feel like I know you quite well already, if I must be honest."

"You know nothing about me!"

"Want to bet?"

She glared at him and sat back down on the edge of his bed. She crossed her arms, showing that she was ready to argue.

"You are the perfectionist who seeks to change the world. You are definitely a freshman in college who has not had their dreams crushed yet by reality, and when one thing goes wrong, you go manic. But on the inside, you are actually easy-going, you just don't want anyone to know that. _Especially_ your parents, because you feel being easy-going means you're a slacker. So you push yourself to the edge and also push others. You probably have mommy issues and are never meeting her expectations _and-_ "

"Enough," Hermione snapped at him, "I don't need to hear anymore from someone I had a _one-night stand_ with."

"So I'm right?"

Hermione didn't answer him. _Of course he had to be right._ Was she really that easy to read? 

Her lack of response made him smirk, "That's what I thought."

He got up and out of bed with no clothes on. Hermione felt heat rush to her cheeks and looked away quickly, but she could still see him in the mirror by his bedroom door. He was smiling at her reaction as he pulled a shirt on over his head.

"Don't be embarrassed," he told her, "It isn't like you haven't seen me already."

Hermione groaned and decided to check her phone. She had many missed calls and unread messages from Pansy. Without reading any of them, she texted back: 

> _**I'm fine, don't worry about me. I'll be back after the roads are cleared. I promise. Trust me, I lived a little last night.** _

* * *

Surprisingly, her day went by smoothly. The city was able to clear the roads and the heat went up dramatically for January, so Hermione was able to go home that evening. It was a short and random storm that worked in her favor. Antonin was wrong, thankfully. _And yes_ , she figured out what his name was again an hour after he made her breakfast. 

They had a very casual and natural type of bickering. It was the type of bickering that Hermione enjoyed. She always respected a natural devils advocate, and that is what Antonin was. She was not surprised when she learned he was older than her, but she _was_ surprised when she realized he was _thirteen years older_ than her. He looked good for his age. _Too good._ But this was bad. Hermione did not hook up with strange men, especially _older_ men.

 _What was he? A cradle-robber to let this happen?_ Hermione shuddered a lot throughout the day thinking about that, but she knew she was only thinking that to make things complicated for herself. She just didn't want to admit she actually kind of liked him.

As the cab pulled up to his house, she sighed with relief and opened the front door.

"Thanks for your hospitality. This will **not** happen again," she informed him.

He leaned against his front door frame and gave her a knowing smile, but he didn't say a word.

As the cab pulled away from his home, she looked back. He was still leaning against his doorframe with his arms crossed, but when he saw she was looking back at him, he waved smugly.

Hermione turned around fuming, but not because she was mad he caught her, but because she _lied_.

She _wanted_ it to happen again, and knowing her and her newfound impulsivity, she would _make_ it happen again.

Hermione had lost all control.

* * *

Hermione was exhausted on Monday morning. She had two cups of coffee before she even left for class and was drinking another in her to-go cup as she sat down in front of the lecture hall. She always loved the front row, but today, she was half tempted to sit in the back. She felt like her professor was going to be able to see exactly who she was this last weekend inside her eyes, but she reasoned with herself that she was just being paranoid. She couldn't help but feel ashamed.

Pansy on the other-hand was _thrilled_ about Hermione getting laid. _She was even proud of her._ Hermione wondered why she even put up with her sometimes, but she was reminded why when Pansy made her the to-go cup of coffee even after Hermione had drunk all of hers. That's what true friends were for. 

Her professor was late, and this made Hermione instantly feel _agitated_. This was not a good start, not at all. She took her last sip of coffee and set her cup down. She picked up her pen and started tapping it rapidly against the table. The boy next to her glared at her after a few minutes, and Hermione gave him an apologetic smile before she stopped.

It was then her professor walked into the lecture hall and down to the front of the room. When she caught sight of his face, all of the color washed out of hers.

 _It was him._ It was **Antonin.** Her one-night stand was her young and ridiculously late professor. She couldn't breathe. 

When he caught sight of her, he raised his right brow, but he made sure not to let his eyes linger in her direction for too long. She swore she saw him smile as he looked away and introduced himself to the whole class.

This was bad, _this was real bad._

* * *

At the end of class, Hermione made her decision as she quickly packed up her things. She was dropping the class. She could take it next quarter with a different professor. It didn't matter that much. It was just a random history elective. 

 _Everything was going to be fine,_ she told herself, _everything was going to be fine._

She looked anywhere but in his direction as she walked around the table and tried to make it out the door, but she heard his voice call after her.

"Miss Granger, could you please come here for a moment?"

_Why was this happening to her?_

She took a deep breath and turned around. She didn't step any closer to him though. She wanted to keep as much distance between them as possible. She was at least relieved when she saw that everyone was out of the lecture hall and it was now just them.

"Yes, Professor Dolohov?"

His dark brown eyes stared into hers with such intensity that it made a shiver go down Hermione's spine.

"I was thinking that-"

 _"I know,"_ she interrupted him, "I need to drop the class. This is just so wron-"

" _That_ you could earn some extra credit," he finished.

Perplexed, Hermione set her books down on the table in front of her.

"We don't even have any assignments yet?"

He grinned, "This is a different kind of extra credit."

Before she could get another word out, he strode towards her and grabbed her face with his hands. He planted his lips on hers. She knew she should push him away, but she melted against his body. If she could remember anything from that night, it was _this._ It was this feeling of intensity between them. It was a feeling she had never experienced before.

As he pulled away from her, she was breathless, but then reality caught up with her. She jumped back away from him and grabbed her books.

"I-I can't," she faltered, "This isn't ethical."

_**"But doesn't it feel good to be bad?"** _

His accent was thicker than it had been two nights before. Hermione gulped and felt goosebumps rise up on her arms.

"Yes," she admitted, _"It does."_

She knew this was a horrible idea, but maybe it was time to add a new word to her vocabulary. 

Irresponsible _did_ have a nice ring to it, and that was all college was about, right? _**Making bad choices.**_


End file.
